Please Don't Leave
by warqueenfuriosa
Summary: Jo shows up at Dean's door covered in blood and barely holding onto consciousness. "You don't need to almost get yourself killed for a kiss. I would have gladly volunteered any day of the week."
When Jo showed up at Dean's door, she was covered in blood from head to toe. For a split second, Dean stood rooted to the spot, too shocked to move or speak. Then Jo attempted a weak little smile followed by a wheeze that probably was meant as a laugh. She said, "Hi Dean," and seemed to fold in on herself as she pitched forward. On instinct, Dean snapped into action and caught her as she fell.

" _Jesus_ , Jo," he breathed. "What happened to you?"

Jo mumbled something in reply, unintelligible with her face pressed into his shoulder. Dean's grip on her tightened as his heart and mind raced. All that blood couldn't possibly be hers. But she was barely holding onto consciousness, there had to be at least one injury somewhere. She was so still and small in his arms now and it scared the living hell out of him.

Dean shoved the morbid thoughts away. "Let's get you cleaned up, Jo," he said.

Jo only made a tiny noise in response, neither in agreement or denial. As Dean scooped Jo up and carried her into the bathroom, she continued to make no protest and it only added to Dean's skyrocketing worry. Jo always had a rapid fire quip at the ready to throw at him and he felt terrifyingly lost with her silence.

Dean set Jo down in the bathtub, cradling the back of her head in his hand carefully. He'd get a look at how bad she was first then call Sam back from the store if she needed to go to the hospital. It wasn't necessary to raise the alarm just yet. Ellen was already worried sick that Jo hunted alone, he had no intention of adding to that worry.

Jo's eyes fluttered open and fixed on him. Dean's breath hitched in his throat. He attempted a shaky smile that he hoped was steadier than he felt at the moment and brushed a lock of her blood-stained hair away from her forehead.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said softly. "Thought I'd lost you there for a minute."

Jo blinked slowly, sluggish. She was awake, yes, thank God, but it was as if she was moving in slow motion. Her gaze roamed over Dean's face before she reached up over the lip of the tub, her fingers stretched out towards him. Immediately, Dean wrapped his hand around hers.

"I'm right here, Jo," he said. "I got you."

"I'm…okay," she whispered, so faintly Dean almost missed it.

"We'll argue about the definition of 'okay' later. Mind telling me what happened exactly?"

Jo's eyes slipped closed again and Dean's fingers tightened.

"Vampires," Jo finally croaked.

"What did you do?" Dean demanded quietly. "Take on a whole nest at once?"

Jo managed a small, wry smile, that hint of the old playful Jo he knew so well making a brief appearance. Dean stifled a sigh. Why did she have to be so damn stubborn and insist on hunting alone? Why couldn't she take the chance of a normal life and run with it? Why couldn't she just play it safe?

"Oh, Jo," Dean groaned. "You didn't."

Jo lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "There were only supposed to be two. I didn't plan on the other three showing up."

Dean swore under his breath and pressed a forehead to Jo's shoulder for a second. He raised his head and looked her in the eye, trying to be as stern as he could, though he felt it wasn't having nearly the desired effect.

"Still not good odds, Jo."

"Please don't tell my mom," Jo pleaded.

"No," Dean said with a firm shake of his head. "No, I'm not making that promise. If you're in as bad a shape as you look right now, Ellen needs to know. She's going to find out anyway and she'll kick your ass. Then mine."

"I'm…just tired."

"Still not promising anything." Without releasing his grip on Jo's hand, Dean turned on the faucet and began to fill the tub. "You can yell at me for this later." He took the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head, tossing it to the bathroom floor in a bloody heap.

Jo sagged against the side of the bathtub, her head resting against his chest. "I won't yell at you," she whispered, her voice strained with exhaustion. She looped an arm around his shoulders as he peeled her mud and blood caked jeans off her legs and eased her back into the tub again.

Dean wavered, wondering if he should give her some privacy and leave or stay and make sure she didn't go unconscious again and drown in the tub. Almost in answer to his thoughts, Jo's hand crept up his torso and curled over his bicep. She'd never touched him like this before. She teased him plenty of times with a few playful – or serious – punches, maybe a slap or two for good measure if he was being an ass, but she never touched him like this. Ever since she'd shown up on his doorstep, she hadn't stopped touching him in fact, as if she was terrified to be alone and needed the reassurance that he was really there and not just a dream.

"Please don't leave," Jo said. "I don't…I can't…"

She let the sentence drift off as she sank further beneath the water. Dean dropped to his knees next to the tub.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "You're safe now."

As gently as he could, Dean scrubbed Jo down with a washcloth as he checked for bite marks. He only found a few gashes that would need sewing up and plenty of nasty bruises Jo would definitely regret in the morning. It still baffled him that she had managed to take on five vampires, alone, and get away alive.

As Dean combed his fingers through her wet hair, Jo leaned into his hand and closed her eyes with a tiny sigh. Maybe there was more damage he couldn't assess just yet. Something had changed, though he couldn't put his finger on it. It might not last. After a good night's rest, Jo could be back to her old self, spunky as ever. But a voice in the back of Dean's mind whispered, _not likely_. This hunt, it had scared Jo and shaken her, badly. And even though it was over and those vampires were dead, that hunt would always stay with her, lurking in her dreams, in every shadow, every nightmare, every time she closed her eyes. That's why she didn't want to be alone. Dean had been there one too many times himself.

"When you're feeling up to it," Dean said, breaking the silence for what felt like hours. "You'll have to tell me how you managed to pull off five to one odds."

Jo smiled though her eyes remained closed. Dean could still see the strain on her face, the tightness around her eyes, the slight wrinkle in her forehead, but there was peace in that smile too, something soft and warm, something Jo didn't show very often to anyone, much less him.

"I won't do it again if I can help it," she said.

Jo and Dean stayed that way for a long time, long after the bath water turned cold, long after Jo started shivering with goosebumps and her lips went blue. With Dean's help, Jo pulled herself out of the water and sat on the edge of the tub, a towel pulled tightly around her. Dean slipped one of his old shirts over her head and worked each of her arms through the sleeves one at a time. Jo never complained but Dean could tell she was in pain from the way every movement was slow, measured, and labored.

Jo crawled into Dean's bed and curled into a ball. When Dean pulled the blankets over her, she caught his hand again. He sat on the edge of the bed as she watched him with tired eyes.

"You're scaring me, Jo," Dean admitted. "You show up covered in blood. You can barely stay awake for two seconds at a time."

"I'm okay," Jo insisted, though her voice was faint and her words held little conviction.

"You're not," Dean replied. "Not really."

A spark of indignation flashed in Jo's face. "Are you going to tell me that I can't hunt anymore? Because that's not your call to make, Dean."

Dean shook his head and stared down at her hand nestled in his. He brushed his broad calloused thumb over her soft, pale knuckles, back and forth, back and forth. Finally, Jo placed her hand against his cheek, pushed herself up on one elbow and kissed him, a bare touch of her lips to his. She trembled with the effort yet managed to linger for a few moments, foreheads pressed together.

"That's why I had to come see you," she said.

"There had to be an easier way, Jo," Dean replied. "You don't need to almost get yourself killed for a kiss. I would have gladly volunteered any day of the week."

She pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes but she kept her hand against his cheek. "We've both been stupid."

Dean made a mock expression of hurt. "Speak for yourself."

Jo shook her head slightly in a long suffering way. "You're a hunter, Dean, like my dad. I didn't want to see you die the way he did. So I ran. And you did too, for the exact same reasons." She let her fingers ghost over his lips, her gaze trailing along after them.

"I don't want to be stupid anymore," she breathed. Her fingers skimmed down his chin, feather light over his throat and came to rest in the middle of his chest. "I don't want to run."

Dean's usual sarcastic reply waiting on the tip of his tongue fizzled and he swallowed hard. He clamped his mouth shut. He could deal with killing monsters. He could deal with gaping wounds and blinding pain. This…this made him more terrified than anything he'd ever faced in the dark.

"Jo…" Dean hesitated.

Jo tore her gaze away from her hand on his chest and looked up at him. Dean's heart pounded so hard at that look his entire body ached. He wasn't ready for this, he never would be. She was right. They'd both been so careful to not cross that line, to remain distanced and unaffected. But it wasn't true. He would always worry about her every second of the day. Every time he saw her covered in blood or in pain because he couldn't protect her, he would wrestle with the ugly black panic that threatened to smother him. He would never be ready for it but it was happening anyway. The minute Jo showed up, Dean was already worried for her. There had never been any distance between them. Maybe he had been running all this time, like Jo said, under the ridiculously naïve belief that would keep her from getting hurt. But all that time Dean had been running, Jo had been on his mind just the same.

"You scare me too, you know," Jo said. "I've seen you hurt plenty of times."

"That's diff…"

"Dean," Jo said, her tone stern. "Don't you dare say it's different. I'll slug you."

Dean laughed, quiet and hoarse from the strain of the last few hours. "And there's the Jo I know. Guess you really are okay then."

She shot him a smug look. "Told you."

Dean shook his head. A beat of silence passed before Jo looked at him pointedly and tugged on his hand. Without a word, Dean slipped into the bed next to her, carefully, to keep from jostling her too much.

"Just try to be a little more careful next time," he said. "And maybe you shouldn't hunt alone anymore."

Jo tucked herself under Dean's arm. "You volunteering, Winchester?"

Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulder and buried his fingers in her hair. He turned slightly to kiss her forehead. "Maybe I am," he said. "Maybe I don't want to run anymore either."

Jo gave a small hum in response as her hand came to rest against his chest. Within seconds, her breathing was deep and even, her body slack against his, and Dean knew she'd fallen asleep. Dean placed his hand over hers and his racing heartbeat began to slow. He'd been keeping her at arm's length for so long, unsure of what he felt for her, unsure of where they stood. He didn't want to hurt her, that's all he knew for certain. But everyone he got close to on this job always got hurt in the end.

For tonight, he'd forget the distance between them and stay close, just to keep her safe.


End file.
